


Of Mirrors and Green Eyes

by Arc28



Category: Bleach
Genre: And Then Some, Anger, Angst, Beast - Freeform, Cute, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eyes, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Give it a try, Help, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, Little self control, Mirrors, Please Don't Kill Me, Shapeshifter, The tags make it look worse that it is, Weird tags, heal, inconclusive, inner turmoil, ish, please, self hate, wolf - Freeform, you know where this is going
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:50:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4706657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arc28/pseuds/Arc28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which my OC is in distress and her former teacher comes to the rescue.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---------------------------------------------------------------<br/>Give it a try please, it's not complete but I will upload the rest soon enough, and it's my first time uploading something,<br/>so I don't really know what I am doing.... But I like it, I hope you like it as well.<br/>PD: My OC is sort of a werewolf with self control (and anger) issues. (Cliche, I know)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Mirrors and Green Eyes

The mirror stared back at her with silvery eyes as she stood before it.  
The small, fragile, delicate frame glinted occasionally with white stars and glimpses of light in the dark of the silent room.  
The woman, no, the girl in the reflection watched her with a distant void in her expression. The echo looked tired, exhausted. The dark bags under her eyes gave her somber look a dangerous note, as a wounded, desperate animal would look at the barrel of the gun that’s to take its life.  
She was immobile, a statue like stance to match the rest of her quarters. Silent, dark, bleak, decayed in comparison to the world just outside its doors.  
Then soft thumps, not unlike a heartbeat, took the attention of the lone figure, who darted her eyes to the point of the mirror were she could see the doors behind her. The steps came to an end in front of the entrance. A beam of light showered into the room as it opened slowly, and it came back from the mirror to light up the girl’s factions, and in the eye caught in the soft white light one could see pain clawing at its insides, trapped inside of the girl’s soul, bleeding, screaming. Not somber or dangerous or distant, but vulnerable, suffering.  
Another person stepped into the small light by the door in, a woman this time. Her eyes were reflected by the mirror as well, and the girl found herself staring at them. They were different; they held a distinct sort of pain, the kind of the one who shares the pain of others. Empathy, worry. Those eyes were kind, green, and spotless, with no blood to be read in them. They were just different.  
The air carried a soft scent now.  
“Flowers, grass… Sunlight”, the girl recognized. Then the woman spoke.  
“ Kara?” The question was soft, the voice melodic, but unafraid to break the menacing silence hanging in the room. The girl kept staring at the reflection, at the woman through the reflection. She noticed something in her own eyes change. “Care”  
“Yes, Unohana Sensei?” The girl’s voice carried not the quake of her eyes, but rather held a somehow warm tone to match the captain’s.  
Those kind green eyes inspected the darker set in the mirror, holding a concerned and apprehensive gaze. The captain was not oblivious to the atmosphere the room held.  
“Can I come in?” She gave a short testing step over the threshold, opening the door a bit further, allowing the small beam of light to illuminate half of the girl’s face entirely. The young one found herself smiling slightly, casting her eyes towards the floor for a fraction of a moment.  
“Of course you may, Sensei.” The black haired captain smiled, much more truthfully than the girl ever could, and stepped inside, closing the door and taking the beam of light with her, leaving them in nearly complete darkness. A few more thumps, a hushed sound, then another light, smaller, softer than that previously coming through the door, a flame.  
The younger soul could see the captain’s factions deftly shaped by the candle she had lit up in the mirror. She smiled again, closing her eyes. The rest of the room was also clear to see now, there was a bed, a dresser, a modest black carpet over a dark wooden floor, and, more to the left, there were dubious blood stains on the wall. Tattooed fists carved out in the white paint.  
The girl had ragged knuckles to match. “Dear God, poor child.”  
The girl followed her master’s gaze unto the red marks, letting her sight wander over them, measuring them, as if she could gauge the anger they were inflicted upon the wall with. She noticed the captain’s eyes barely registered any kind of change.  
The woman took slow, deliberate steps towards the damaged concrete, and for the first time, the girl turned her head slightly from the mirror and to the captain, who was now within arm’s length of the blood, her blood.  
The captain reached for the first marks, her hand steady and firm, the girl did not see it quiver once, certainly the pulse of an experienced healer. She inspected them, moving her hand carefully from one end to another, tracing them with the tip of her fingers, as if she could somehow see through them. Then she withdrew her hand, and brought it closer to her own eyes, looking for something, almost as if she could read it. “Perhaps she does”  
She took a deep breath, and then released it slowly, steeling herself. Her eyes took a turn to the right, now watching her apprentice, who maintained her look. The girl saw her eyes bypass her completely as they went for the mirror, where she could make out her hands. They still dripped blood.  
Their eyes locked as Unohana lowered her hand, and she realized her sash was stained with her blood. “Unworthy” The girl chuckled darkly, with clear note of self hate. Anger.  
“Kara” the captain called for her attention, starting to take careful steps towards her, slow and quiet, like she would run away or rip her to shreds at any given moment. The girl chuckled again “Not necessarily false”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for bearing with me this far, I'll upload the rest soon enough, since it's already written.


End file.
